


Five Stars

by Chuffed4angst



Series: Five Stars [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Chubby Kink, Fat Character, Food Kink, Food Sex, M/M, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-04
Updated: 2013-07-04
Packaged: 2017-12-17 16:36:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 634
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/869669
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chuffed4angst/pseuds/Chuffed4angst
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ron and Draco own their own restaurant.  Ron is the chef; Draco the host.  A rave review brings out Draco's growing insecurity.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Five Stars

At ease in the marble and chrome of their gourmet kitchen, Ron expertly poured steamed milk to make Draco’s latte just so. Placing the latte and breakfast plate in front of him, Ron asked, “What did the reviewer say?”

Draco folded up the Prophet and frowned. After an awkward moment, he sighed, “She quite liked it, actually. Gave us five stars and said we offer a heavenly palette.”

Bewildered by his lover’s attitude, Ron swatted Draco’s shoulder. “That’s fantastic, you berk! Why aren’t you happy?”

Draco blushed deeply and took a sip of his latte. “Mmm,” he nodded his approval of the drink. “I am happy,” he lied.

“Right.” Ron swiped the paper and scanned the review down to the second to last paragraph, which read:

\-------

_If my humble opinion has not persuaded you yet, dear reader, I offer incontrovertible proof of the allure of Chef Ron Weasley’s creations. The food at Bienfaisant is so irresistibly delicious that it has bewitched and ensnared the Malfoy heir. Britain’s most ambiguous war veteran is Weasley’s partner and co-restaurateur. Weasley’s divine cuisine has transformed Malfoy’s sour and waifish skeleton into a merry leprechaun with chubby cheeks and a belly to match._

\-------

“Romilda Vane is a malicious harpy,” Ron snapped. Seeing how miserable Draco looked, Ron softened. “Nobody will take this seriously, babe. Her reviews are littered with useless hyperbole. People skip over this shite.”

Draco crossed his arms and tried to glare at Ron. Unable to keep eye contact for long, he dropped his eyes to his belly and let out a breath he had been holding. As he exhaled, his muscles let go and his soft belly spilled a good six inches out into his lap. He lifted the front a bit and dropped it to jiggle. “She’s a hack,” he agreed, “but she just might have a point.” Pushing his uneaten breakfast away, he announced “diet time” as if it were his death sentence.

It broke Ron’s heart to see Draco so downhearted. “Are you serious? Do you really want to give up my cooking?”

“N-no, but –“

“No buts,” said Ron firmly, kneeling down next to Draco. Cupping Draco’s newly – adorably, edibly, sexily – wide soft chin, he looked into stormy grey eyes and asked, “Were you the least bit unhappy before you read that article?”

Draco’s pout faltered toward a smile. “You know I’m happy.”

“Yes,” agreed Ron. Then, running a hand lovingly down the contours of Draco’s pudgy abdomen, “And you know how sexy I think you are. Every beautiful bit of you. Don’t you?”

Ron punctuated his statement with a clever caress of Draco’s underbelly that also brushed along his cock. Draco dizzily pressed his cheek hard against Ron’s hand and blushed even more deeply. “Yes. I do know.”

“Ok. So, forget Romilda Vane. I mean, remember the five stars, but forget the rest. And then tell me. What do you want? Hmm? Do you want to diet? I’ll be happy to make salads for you; lots of citrus; we could join a gym. Or do you want to have your breakfast?”

Seeing Draco look wistfully at his discarded breakfast, Ron pushed it back in front of him. With a tap of his wand, it was warm and mouth-watering again. “I just want you to be happy,” said Ron. “Tell me what you want?”

Looking desperately from his breakfast plate to the Prophet, Draco admitted, “I want breakfast. I love when you feed me. You know that. But—“

Grinning wolfishly, Ron held up a bite. “Then take what you want. That’s what Malfoy’s do, isn’t it?” he teased.

“Yes,” affirmed Malfoy, pulling the bite off the fork greedily. Mewling as he swallowed, he begged, “More?”

Ron scooped up a bigger bite and promised, “Always more. Bigger, more exotic, more delicious. Just like you.”


End file.
